Primeval: Unnatural History
by Mr Twyst
Summary: When Connor and Abby return from the past, things have changed. Old enemied have returned, new friends have appeared, and the ARC is facing budget cuts. Meanwhile, anomalies continue to open like there's no tomorrow and if it continues there soon will be.
1. Chapter 1

(_A MESSAGE FROM THE AUTHOR_) Hello. Welcome to _Unnatural History_, and I hope you'll enjoy what lies ahead. This story was originally about a virus that came through an anomaly, but then I thought of something better. I have slight crossover elements in this story, but not enough to warrant full crossover status. Thanks to SassyJ for beta-reading. (_END NOTE)_

POLITE WARNING – This story contains occasional strong language, violence and sex references.

THE TIME IS OUT OF JOINT

_Hamlet, Act I, Scene V, Line 188_

WHITEBUSH TEST TRACK, KENT, ENGLAND – PRESENT

The anomaly hung in the air, like a glowing ball of floating shards of glass. It was surrounded by guards, all dressed in black SAS uniforms, guns pointed directly at the anomaly, should anything come through. A short technician stood at the laptop set on the pile of crates, absently pushing glasses up the bridge of his nose. Next to him stood a young man dressed in black trousers, black shirt and a black leather jacket. He peered over the technician's shoulder, occasionally glancing at the anomaly.

A sharp, high-pitched keening sliced the air, echoing from its source – the other side of the anomaly. The soldiers lifted their guns on reflex, and the young man by the laptop ran towards a car parked by the doors of the warehouse, returning a moment later with a rocket launcher.

The anomaly quivered, and seconds later a group of people fell through it, slamming into the ground.

"_Lock it!_" one of them yelled, desperate.

The technician rolled his eyes, and stabbed a button on the keyboard, activating the disruptors positioned around the anomaly. They whirred as they powered up, ready to release a blast of electricity into the anomaly's event horizon, inverting its electromagnetic field and locking it shut. Then a gigantic insect burst through it, seconds before the anomaly condensed into a glowing ball, hovering innocently in the air.

The soldiers opened fire at the insect, hoping to breach its tough exoskeleton. The creature slowed to a hover, scanning the mass of meat below it… and exploded.

Captain Becker looked up from where he had been lying underneath the anomaly, and saw a young man he didn't recognise lowering a rocket launcher. The kid had messy, sandy brown hair and piercing blue eyes set into an angular face, which rung absolutely no bells in Becker's memory.

A group of medics rushed forward, part of a medical team that the ARC kept on standby, two bearing a stretcher. Dr Morgan stooped in front of Becker, reaching her hand down to help him up.

"Any injuries?" she asked.

"Connor's broken his leg," Becker panted, "And we've all got some nasty cuts."

"I can see," Morgan said, then motioned for the stretcher bearers to take Connor to the waiting ambulance. Abby and Sarah picked themselves up, Abby limping after Connor. Morgan turned to Sarah and Becker, "We'll have a look at you at the ambulance," she said, leading them towards a black van that was the ARC's standby ambulance.

Becker heard a welsh-accented voice shouting orders, and glanced over his shoulder to see the technician, a short man with a white lab coat, short hair, fingerless gloves yelling at the soldiers, and the young man he didn't recognise collecting bits of insect and dumping them in a dustbin.

"Er… Doctor," he asked, glancing back to Morgan, "Who are those people, the technician and the kid?"

Morgan gave him an odd look, "You should know them by now, Captain."

"What?" Sarah said, turning to look.

"I don't remember them," Becker said.

"You must," Morgan said, stopping and turning to them, "Dr Taylor was a student with Professor Cutter, and Griffin helped us with that anomaly in Cardiff."

"There was an anomaly in Cardiff?" Sarah frowned.

"Yes…" Morgan frowned too, "Did either of you take a knock to the head?"

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ANOMALY RESEARCH CENTERE (ARC) – PRESENT

Lester stood by the window in his office, looking over the main operations room through the window. The technicians were busy calibrating more Locking Devices, and experimenting with more compact units for easier transportation.

That had been one of the main priorities since Lord Bathelwaite had been assigned by the Prime Minister to liaise with the ARC on his behalf. Bathelwaite, a former military general, had made it very clear that the ARC should prioritise containing the anomalies as soon as possible, destroying anything that came through 'for the good of the people'. He had been against Griffin's appointment to the primary response team, and was putting pressure on Lester to mass-produce locking devices.

Lester resented Bathelwaite and his interference, preferring to be more cautious. They'd already seen what rushing in blind could do – all Cutter's talk of Claudia Brown. Dr Taylor had theorised that something had changed the timeline whilst Cutter had been in the Permian, causing this Claudia Brown person to vanish. Taylor had reiterated the theory when Becker, Sarah, Connor and Abby had claimed not to recognise him or Griffin, and had talked about rescuing somebody called Danny Quinn.

Lester's computer pinged, signifying an email. He checked it, and sighed. He picked up his telephone, and dialled the home office.

"Can I speak to Christine Johnson, please?"

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Connor lay on a bed in the ARC's infirmary, a bandage wrapped round the swelling on his leg. According to Dr Morgan, it was just a sprain and he'd be fine soon. Abby and Sarah were sitting next to him, and Becker was standing behind them. On the other side of the bed were Dr Taylor and Griffin O'Conner.

Taylor was explaining his theory of an alternate timeline, which seemed to make sense. And from the looks on Connor and Abby's faces, they had encountered something similar before.

Becker had assessed the Welshman and the kid as soon as they had entered the room, and he wasn't sure of what he'd seen. Dr Taylor was a short man, his glasses forever sliding down the bridge of his nose, who permanently wore fingerless gloves. His pockets were filled with junk, ranging from tape measures and hypodermic syringes to a packet of jelly babies, which he'd offered round before the debriefing. Taylor was obviously highly intelligent, if a little scatterbrained and eccentric.

"So, Connor, Abby and this Danny Quinn went through the anomaly to find Helen Cutter," Taylor said, "And you ran into a future version of the ARC…"

"Yeah," Connor said, "It was all empty and destroyed."

"And it had some sort of device for controlling the anomalies?"

"It was like it was finding certain anomalies from a database," Abby said.

"It had a map like the one in the artefact," Sarah added, "Showing where to find an anomaly."

"But if it tracked anomalies," Griffin interrupted, speaking for the first time, "Why did she need to open them?"

Becker examined the kid. Griffin was young, maybe nineteen or twenty, and he was dressed in baggy clothes – black trainers, black trousers, black leather jacket over black shirt. His eyes, light blue, which seemed to watch everyone carefully, were set into an angular face that could have passes for Danny Quinn twenty years ago.

The kid held Becker's gaze, blinking freely, until Becker looked back to Taylor.

"Good point," Connor frowned, "Cutter did think about temporal faultlines a couple of years back, with the Mosasaurs."

"That's it!" Taylor seemed to jump with excitement, "The device Helen was using must act as a tracker that can find specific temporal faultlines, stored in a database."

"The artefact," Connor said.

"Yes," Taylor agreed, "Once you've found a faultline, it can open an anomaly on the faultline…" Taylor paused, thinking hard.

"You thought the Artefact was a map of all the anomalies there's ever been," Griffin said, leaning forward in his chair.

"And if that theory's right, then all the anomalies exist on temporal faultlines," Connor realised, "So any of them could be opened with that device?"

"In theory," Taylor said.

The intercom buzzed, "Dr Taylor," Lester's voice floated from the speaker grill, "I need a word. Now."

Taylor sighed, "No rest for the wicked," he smiled and left, dropping a packet of jelly babies onto the table next to Connor. Griffin checked his watch, then stood and followed Taylor out. As Connor opened the jelly babies, Becker excused himself, and left the infirmary.

Idly, he wandered through the corridors of the ARC, checking the security, seeing what else had changed. Professor Cutter's office door was now labelled 'Dr Malcolm Taylor', and had a reconstruction of Cutter's monstrosity of a matrix at its centre. Becker had never been able to understand it, but evidently Taylor could, and had reconstructed it from Cutter's notes.

The main operations room was much the same as it had been before the time-shift, as Taylor referred to whatever the event that had changed history was, except for several technicians working on building more anomaly locking devices. The Anomaly detector stood, tall and proud, against the ramp that led to the administrative level, where he could see Taylor talking to a frustrated-looking Lester. Becker wondered what they were talking about.

He wondered out of the operations room, past the labs where Abby was dissecting the remains of the insects from the future. He left her to herself, and paused at a doorway leading down to the basement levels. He didn't normally go down there, since there was normally nothing but deep-frozen creatures, generators and databanks. But now there was a sign on the door reading 'gymnasium'.

He followed the steps down, into a large open space, with a few mats and running machines, and a large padded pillar. Griffin was standing in front of the pillar, barefoot and bare-chested, standing in a classic karate stance – legs shoulder width apart, front leg bent, back leg straight, arms raised to guard against attacks on his torso or face – and alternately hitting it with his fists or kicking it.

Becker watched the kid for a few minutes, noting his lean muscular frame. Griffin paused after five more minutes, panting slightly and wiping sweat from his brow. He turned and leant against the wall, swigging water from a bottle. He looked up at Becker, raising his eyebrows.

"How long have you been standing there?" he asked.

"About five minutes," Becker answered, walking over to him, "You a boxer or something?" he asked.

"Mixed martial arts," Griffin corrected, "I liked learning to beat the crap out of people, and after I lost my job I–"

The familiar alarm blared into life, signifying the appearance of another anomaly.

"Y'know," Griffin said as he grabbed his shoes and shirt from the floor by the pillar, "I'd swear they were happening more often."

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ETHIOPIA – PLIOCENE ERA

Danny Quinn fell to his knees, string at the empty air where the anomaly had closed. It was gone. His only route home.

"_Fuck_," he said, over and over again. Then he screamed it aloud, angrily punching a rock, then nursing his bleeding knuckles.

He was trapped here. Forever. Nowhere to go.

The language helped him vent his anger at life, God, the universe, whoever, for stranding him here. Alone. Apart from what was left of Helen.

That was it! Helen would have one of those opening devices!

Danny leapt to his feet, and ran as fast as he could towards Helen's corpse.

(_AUTHOR'S NOTE_) So there's the first chapter. Hope you liked it. Just so you know, the characters of Griffin O'Conner and Dr Taylor are the crossover elements – Griffin is from the movie Jumper, and Taylor from Dr Who. I justify my use of them with the fact the timeline has changed, and this quote from Douglas Adams: 'In an infinite universe, anything, even _The Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy_, is possible.' Ciao for now. (_END NOTE_)


	2. Chapter 2

HISTORY IS AN ILLUSION CAUSED BY THE PASSAGE OF TIME

_The Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy, Secondary Phase_

ETHIOPIA – PLIOCENE ERA

It wasn't there.

Helen's body was gone. The raptor's corpse was still there, but the only thing left of Helen was her backpack.

Danny fell to his knees and emptied the backpack onto the ground, rifling through the contents. There was her notebook, some make-up, a wallet containing a photo of Nick Cutter and Stephen Hart, a large tooth and a strange blue crystal. Danny flicked through the notebook, evidently a different copy from the one she'd had when she was disguised. It was written in some form of code, and contained numerous diagrams and notations, none of which made any sense, except the words 'Claudia Brown' scrawled next to an image of Jenny Lewis.

Danny paused. He reached out, and lifted the crystal, weighing it in his hand. It felt warm, and heavier than he'd expected it to be. He compared it to the sketch in the notebook, noting the red ink (or perhaps blood) that the entry had been written in, as opposed to the usual black. It was obviously important.

Sighing, he packed Helen's equipment into his own backpack (minus the make-up), and stood. He set out through the rocky pinnacles, searching for the stream where the early humans had been drinking.

He didn't notice the hooded figure standing in the shadow of the cliff, watching him go.

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ARC – PRESENT

"What have we got?" Becker asked as he strode into the operations area.

"Arsenal," Connor called from the detector.

"It seems close to the Carboniferous anomaly…" Taylor mused, pushing his glasses up the bridge of his nose, "We locked that one shut shortly before you went after Helen."

Griffin plugged a handheld detector into the main device, removing it again when it bleeped. He led the way out towards the vehicle pool, with the device in his hand. He was followed by Becker, Abby and Connor. Taylor took Connor's seat at the detector and ran a program he'd installed recently – one that could gauge an anomaly's strength through the amount of radio interference it generated, and set to work.

Moments later, two vehicles exited the ARC's garage. They were practical cars – fast, good handling, reinforced to deal with creature attacks, and fitted with sat-navs that could interface with the handheld anomaly detectors and upload the co-ordinates that Griffin had downloaded from the main detector.

The cars sped towards Arsenal, Taylor monitoring the satellite for tell-tale energy fluctuations of a creature incursion.

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INDETERMINATE VECTORS

The massive facility hummed with power, drawn from the Earth's own magnetic field, fed into the facility's power conduits by a vast web of antennae.

The testing room was enormous, and spherical, with no way in or out. The massive focusing coils protruded from every wall, focusing on the very centre of the room.

From the control centre, overlooking the testing room, the head scientist checked his watch. The power surge was due to start any minute soon, and would probably fry the positronic sump again. But with each test they came closer to their goal, and when they knew it was possible, they could concentrate on getting all the power in a controllable osmotic stream rather than one large gulp.

The digital countdown clicked to twenty seconds.

The scientist lifted a microphone to his lips.

"All personnel, please note test beginning in t-minus ten, nine, eight…"

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ARSENAL – PRESENT

They found the anomaly in a basement close to the locked Carboniferous anomaly. It hung there, looking like ball lighting, only not as innocent as ball lighting.

"Standard procedure," Becker said as the SAS soldiers formed a cordon around the anomaly, "Lock it, then contain it from the public."

Connor nodded, as he and Abby began unpacking the locking device's cases from the back of the car. Griffin went over to help them, tucking a Desert Eagle pistol filled with explosive-tipped bullets (and the safety catch on) into his belt.

It usually took ten minutes to set up all the equipment, but a lot could happen in ten minutes. And indeed, something did.

Taylor's voice sounded over the radio, "The anomaly seems to be giving off a lot of energy," he said, thoughtful, "Far more than I've ever detected before."

"Why's that?" Connor asked.

"Don't know," came Taylor's reply, "Differences in temporal end-points only produce slight variations in energy output, so either this one opens to a point in time so far from ours that the difference in Temporal Potential Energy is massive, or maybe its to do with its proximity to a locked anomaly. You are only a hundred feet from the Carboniferous anomaly."

A loud buzzing noise echoed through the basement, emanating from the anomaly.

"Heads up," Becker called, turning his gun to face the anomaly. Around it, the soldiers did the same, clicking their safety catches off.

Becker turned to Connor, "Get that locking device ready ASAP!"

"I'm working on it in case you hadn't noticed!" Connor snapped, shoving a few wires into their sockets.

Abby grabbed a case and opened it, flinging the lid back, removing the equipment inside quickly and carefully, and passing it to Griffin, who was working on securing the second focusing coil. He secured the coil and its positronic sump into the housing Abby had given him, then lifted it onto its tripod, letting the unconnected wires protruding from the back dangle uselessly.

Around the anomaly, Connor had set up two of the focusing coils, and as Abby rushed to secure the last one, he tapped away at the laptop sitting on the case, calibrating the coils that had been attached. Griffin pulled the gun from his belt and aimed at the anomaly, clicking the safety off.

"Hurry up…" Becker hissed.

The volume of the buzzing increased, echoing around the basement, distorted by the anomaly, whatever causing it coming irrevocably closer and closer.

Abby ran across from the last focusing coil, dragging the last few wires from the–

Something hurtled through the anomaly.

A fast-moving cloud, swirling in the air, moved to envelop an SAS soldier. He completely disappeared within it as it undulated around him. Then the screaming started.

The soldiers pointed their guns at the cloud, uncertain of whether to fire or not.

The cloud moved on, shifting to the next soldier in a matter of seconds, leaving the bleached skeleton of the first soldier to drop to the ground.

Becker opened fire, and half a second later so did everyone else. Bullets flew across the room, several exploding as they came in contact with the wall. But there was no effect on the cloud. It jumped to another soldier, and the screams sounded again.

"Everybody out!" Becker yelled, and nobody needed telling twice.

There was a crush in the stairwell, as the cloud disengaged from the soldier and wheeled towards them. It swirled closer, reaching out to peel the flesh from their bones like a shoal of piranhas.

Griffin darted out of the stairwell, then began pulling people out after him. Becker shoved the last few soldiers up the stairs, then leapt through the door, as the swarm spun closer and closer and closer. He slammed it, shoving the bolt across, then bolted up the stairs.

"What the hell was that?" Connor panted.

"A swarm of something," Abby said, "Some sort of flesh-eating scavengers, I think."

"What? Journalists?" Griffin said, slightly sarcastic, checking the ammo in his gun.

"More like some sort of Piranha-locusts," Abby said, glaring at Griffin, "Probably from the future."

"Brilliant," Griffin muttered, "And do I need to point out that all our equipment is in there?"

"No," Becker said, "It was kind of obvious."

"So how're we gonna get it out with the News of the World hovering in there?"

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THAMES HOUSE, LONDON

The HQ of British Military Intelligence (section 5) stood on the banks of the Thames, close to the Houses of Parliament at Westminster.

Lester didn't care for the look of the building, and neither did he care for its occupants. MI5 was primarily concerned with national security, and were concerned about the anomalies. With only a few confirmed time ruptures overseas, they felt it was 'a matter of national security' and, therefore, they should have control. Under pressure, what with the recession and swine flu pandemic, Prime Minister Yates had partially acceded to MI5's demands and appointed Lord Bathelwaite as MI5's liaison with the ARC.

Bathelwaite's office was on the twelfth floor of the building, just down the corridor from the office of C, the head of MI5. As Lester sat in the waiting area, muttering to himself about how Bathelwaite had requested – or demanded – a meeting, and was now making him wait, when his mobile rang.

He flicked it open and checked the caller ID, before answering it.

"James?" Christine Johnson's voice was slightly distorted by the line.

"I'm at Thames House now," he said, "Now would you please tell me what's so urgent about this meeting?"

"Sorry about that earlier," Christine said, "I was in a meeting with the home secretary, and couldn't get away."

"I know the feeling," Lester said.

"Anyway," Christine continued, "You know I'm friends with Bathelwaite's PA?"

"You mentioned it last time we had lunch."

"Well, she told me that Bathelwaite is forwarding plans to scale back the ARC's operations, now that you've developed a technology that can lock the anomalies shut. It seems that we can maintain a few rapid-response units to secure and lock anomaly sites, but the research is apparently too much of a drain on government resources. The home secretary seems inclined to agree, what with current economic conditions and the need to prepare for Swine flu, hunting terrorists and Afghanistan."

"Great," Lester muttered, "The frequency of anomaly occurrences is increasing, and Bathelwaite's worried about the recession?" Did he even understand what the anomalies were, and what their more frequent appearances could mean? Taylor had made roughly twenty-four suggestions, none of which were good.

"Evidently," Christine said.

"Mr Lester?" Bathelwaite's PA looked up from the phone on her desk, "Lord Bathelwaite will see you now."

Lester stood, cutting his call short and followed her into Lord Bathelwaite's office, as the Lord himself put down the telephone.

"James, James," Bathelwaite said, faux warmth in his voice, "Please, sit down."

Lester sat, taking a deep breath as he did so.

"Snifter?" Bathelwaite offered.

"No thank you," Lester said, politely.

Bathelwaite shrugged, then poured himself a drink, before sipping from the glass.

Lester gave the Lord a quick glance up and down. He was a small man in his late fifties, displaying all the physical features of that age. He scratched his balding head, before steepling his fingers and peering at Lester over his glasses.

"Now, James," he said, "I feel we need to talk about, shall we say, the scale of your operations at the Anomaly Research Centre…"

"Sir?" Lester said, frowning as if he had no idea what Bathelwaite was talking about.

"Your operation," Bathelwaite said, "Has been getting a little bit too big for the limited resources we have available."

"So we're here to discuss budget cuts, sir?" Lester asked, making it sound like a guess more than anything.

"Exactly!" Bathelwaite snapped his fingers, "The need for specialised equipment and near-constant replacing of personnel is getting us a little concerned. What with the current economic difficulties–"

"We're having our research budget slashed?"

"Precisely," Bathelwaite smiled, "You seem well informed, James."

"I'm good at guessing," Lester said, smiling proudly.

"So," Bathelwaite continued after a brief pause, "You're having your research budget slashed by about…" he paused, seeming to think, "About seventy-five percent."

"Seventy five?" Lester exclaimed, "How are we supposed to manage to contain the anomalies with a cut like that?"

"You're not," Bathelwaite said, smiling, "Plans are being drawn up to form anomaly response teams in major cities to combat the appearances of these rifts in time."

"By locking them shut whenever they appear?"

"Again, you seem remarkably well-informed," Bathelwaite peered at Lester through his glasses.

"You have ordered us to begin building more locking devices," Lester reminded him, "On a national operation like this, you'd need at least one locking device per team, many fully-paid teams and technicians." Lester had the feeling Bathelwaite hadn't thought this through.

"We can draw the teams from local law enforcement agencies," Bathelwaite said, "And once enough people know how to make the locking devices, we won't need specialists."

There was a knock at the door, and Bathelwaite's secretary stuck her head round it.

"I'm sorry to interrupt," she said, "But I have a message for Mr Lester."

Lester turned at the mention of his name.

"Dr Taylor just called, from the ARC. Apparently they have a situation. He was cut off before he could elaborate."


	3. Chapter 3

(_AUTHOR'S NOTE_) Well, I'm back. Sorry for the delay, but there's been a few issues with the DocX system so I couldn't send copies to my betareader. Consequently, this chapter is in the 'raw' state which hasn't been checked through. I'll probably replace it with a better version if SassyJ has a look at it later. And there's some great news at the bottom of the chapter, too! (_END NOTE_)

TIME IS AN ILLUSION CAUSED BY THE PASSAGE OF HISTORY

_The Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy, Secondary Phase_

ETHIOPIA – PLIOCENE ERA

Danny Quinn stooped next to the pool, dipped his hands in and rubbed the cool liquid over his face. He closed his eyes, enjoying the feel of the cool water running over his skin, temporarily easing the heat from the unforgiving sun.

He glanced up and down the valley, to where the australopithecines that Helen had tried to wipe out were sitting in the shade of the ridge. Hopefully, he'd be able to see what they were eating, so he'd be able to survive as well. Although, would there be a point? There was virtually no chance an anomaly would open nearby, and even if one did, there was virtually no chance that it would lead back to the present, what with it having the whole of time to choose from.

But it did make him smile when he thought about how the archaeologists would feel when they uncovered his skeleton, complete with its mobile and camera.

He stood up, about to ease his backpack from his shoulders to sit and wait, when he froze.

There was a figure standing atop the ridge, staring down at him. Directly at him. The figure was not an australopithecine – it stood too upright, and, although its face was in shadow, Danny could tell its skin was hairless.

He leapt to his feet, running through the flowing stream and charging up the steep incline of the ridge, shouting at the figure. He staggered onto the top of the ridge, looking wildly around. But the figure had gone.

No – wait! The figure was running down the other side of the ridge, darting between large boulders. Danny just got the occasional glimpse, but it was enough to recognise the figure as a young man, stripped to the waist.

Danny groaned. At that distance, he was going to lose the young man almost immediately. Nevertheless, he took a deep breath, and began to jog down the slope.

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------OXFORD STREET, LONDON – HOLOCENE ERA

The two men stood quietly on the pavement, not talking. They had set up a camera-like device at the edge of the road, and were carefully aiming it at a point midway down the street.

It was the same point where, almost a year before, an anomaly had appeared. It had allowed an Enteledont to appear and rampage down the street, before it had been contained by the team from the ARC.

The camera-like device whirred as it rotated on its tripod, surveying the area that had been within the anomaly's energy field. An experienced surveyor would recognise it as a theodolite, a machine for measuring vertical and horizontal angles on buildings. Of course, this device was anything but a theodolite.

It bleeped.

One man nodded to the other, and they began disassembling the device and packing it away, before walking to a quiet alley. They waited for approximately four minutes, until the air seemed to split, to shatter, as its fragments were caught in the terzo energy field released around the forming anomaly.

When the anomaly was fully open, the men walked through it, and it closed behind them.

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ARC

The alarms continued to flare, which was continuously disrupting Taylor's attempts to concentrate on hearing if his call to Connor had been answered.

Eventually, he gave up.

_Fuck it,_ he thought, _I'll send them a text message._

So, he started composing a text message to Connor, doing his best to ignore the alarms and work out which buttons to press.

Soldiers jogged past his office, guns up, safety catches off, towards the main operations area where the anomaly detector was screaming like a child having a tantrum. That was understandable – given that three anomalies had simultaneously opened within ten feet of it, forming a perfect triangle.

The ARC had been put into lockdown, with steel shutters sliding across the outside windows and doors to deny any access. Since they only had two anomaly locking devices, and one was elsewhere and the other not yet finished, lockdown had been a necessity. Since then, the operations room had been cleared, all exits barricaded and guarded.

Taylor had already called Thames House on the landline, only for the power to be cut per lockdown protocol. The ARC was now being powered by internal generators and mobile phone reception within was, frankly, crap.

Lester pushed his way into Taylor's office, having just arrived through the vent Danny Quinn had used to gain illicit entry to the ARC. It had been modified since then as an emergency escape route that was exempt from the normal lockdown protocols, and not looking happy about it.

"What's going on?" he snapped.

"We have three anomalies open in the operations room," Taylor supplied, as usual not letting Lester's brusqueness affect him.

"Four, sir," said a guard who'd just entered, "Another one opened up just a few minutes ago."

"Oh marvellous," Lester said sarcastically, "I don't suppose you've been able to get Connor to come back with the locking device?"

"Just sending him a message now," Taylor replied, tapping the 'send' button on the mobile.

"Haven't you contacted him already?" Lester asked.

"No, you know what happens to the landline in lockdown, and what the mobile reception's like in here," Taylor reminded him, patiently.

Lester glared at him, looking like he was about to unleash a threatening retort, but bit it back. Instead, he said "Let's just hope they're here soon."

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ARSENAL

"Can anyone else hear a bleeping?" Griffin asked, cocking his head slightly.

Abby listened too, and she heard it. A faint ringing sound… from the other side of the door.

"That's my phone!" Connor said, "I must've put it on the cases. Someone's just sent me a text."

"Let's hope your mum's not expecting a reply anytime soon," Griffin muttered.

Connor glared at him.

"Sorry," Griffin said, even quieter than at first.

"The buzzing's stopped," Becker said.

Everyone stopped, listening at the door to the basement. It was true. From the other side of the door came only silence, except for the faint shimmer of the anomaly.

"We need to lock it," Abby said.

"Before _Daily Mail_ comes back," Griffin added, pausing to spit on the ground just after he'd said _Daily Mail_.

"Connor," Becker hissed, "How close were you to setting up the locking device?"

"Just the last few connections," Connor whispered back.

"Okay…" Becker lifted his gun, and reached for the door handle, "Get them in as fast as possible, then lock it shut! Ready?"

"No."

"Okay, on three," Becker tensed, as Griffin pulled his pistol from his waistband and clicked the safety off.

"One," Becker counted, "Two, three!"

He shoved the door open and dived through it, swinging his rifle from left to right. Griffin ducked in after him, covering the opposite direction with his pistol, as Connor and Abby moved between them, heading for the anomaly and the surrounding equipment. No buzzing, flesh-devouring scavengers materialised, so Connor set about connecting up the last couple of focusing coils, whilst Becker kept his gun trained on the shimmering rift in time.

Nothing happened for a full minute, as Connor and Abby fiddled anxiously with the wires and buttons. Until Connor thumped the big red button, and the anomaly's energy field inverted, sucking the temporal fragments to the edge of the event horizon.

Everyone breathed a sigh of relief.

Then the swarm detached itself from the ceiling, where it had been resting, undulating its way down, completely surrounding Connor.

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ETHIOPIA – PLIOCENE ERA

Danny had been following the young man for some hours now, and he was tired. Doing a marathon was one thing, but doing it in boiling African heat millions of years before he was born was quite another. The kid however was showing no signs of fatigue. Indeed, he even seemed to stop whenever Danny did, as if waiting for him to get his breath back.

As if he was leading Danny somewhere, yet wanted to keep his identity secret.

Well, Danny could live with that, as long as the kid was taking him to an anomaly that led back home.

He clambered to his feet from where he'd been lying in the shade of a boulder, and glanced around. The kid was indeed standing nearby – about two hundred metres away, standing on the sand. Wasn't he going to get sunburn without a shirt?

At the sight of Danny, he began to jog away at a walking pace. Danny sighed, and began to walk after him. Carefully, Danny shaded his eyes and peered at the kid's retreating back. He had light brown hair, and his sweat-slicked shoulders bore an ugly scar across the blades.

Danny stumbled, catching himself at the last minute. He glanced down, and pulled his foot from the small hole. When he glanced up, the kid had vanished.

He began to run towards the last place he'd seen the kid, panicking slightly. He rounded the boulder, and froze.

An anomaly hung in the air, where the kid must have vanished into. Danny ran at it, diving through it… and straight into a waiting group of soldiers.

(_AUTHOR'S NOTE_) I promised some news up top, and here it is: I recently read on io9 that, thanks to international funding, Primeval will be back! For 2 Seasons! Season 4 will have 7 episodes, and season 5 will have 6. Season 4 is expected in 2010. (_END NOTE_)


	4. Chapter 4

(_AUTHOR'S NOTE_) Sorry for the lack of updates, but I've been very busy. Anyway, here's the next chapter, hopefully with more to follow. (_END NOTE_)

TIME AND RELATIVE

INDETERMINATE VECTORS

The head scientist examined the results of the latest test, noting with approval that the Timonic reactors were within acceptable margins. He cast a cursory glance over the other figures on the printout, eyes widening with each new statistic he read. The tests' success margins had increased massively, almost on target.

He reached for his telephone, dialling a single number.

"Sir," he said, "We're improving dramatically – I guess one more test and we should be ready."

"Then start the next test as soon as possible," came the voice from the other end of the line, as if it were obvious.

"Yes sir," the scientist said, just as the other man hung up.

* * *

ARENAL – HOLOCENE ERA

The swarm moved, faster than anyone had believed it could, swirling around Connor, before hovering directly towards the door. It sped up the staircase, out of the basement, leaving Connor intact.

"Oh God," Connor said.

"Fuck," Griffin yelled, running towards the stairs, lifting his gun. Becker jogged after him, as did the remaining soldiers, leaving Connor and Abby alone.

"You okay?" Abby asked.

"Yeah," Connor swallowed, "Just a bit shaken, that's all."

"Good," Abby said, smiling, "There'd be too much space in the flat without you."

Connor chuckled. She was definitely joking… he thought.

There was a loud bleeping from the box, and Connor glanced over to see his mobile phone vibrating against the controls of the locking device. He grabbed it, checking the text message.

"Oh God," he said again, turning to Abby, "There's three anomalies in the ARC."

Abby immediately ran for the stairs, calling out to Griffin and Becker.

When she emerged from the basement beneath Arsenal football stadium, the first thing she heard was the screaming, and the first thing she saw was the skeleton of a security guard, lying on the ground, its mouth open in a silent scream.

The ticket barriers burst open, and people began to charge out of the stands, screaming in terror, and just over the racket, were the faint noises of explosive-tipped bullets ripping apart plastic chairs.

Abby dived to one side as the crowd swept past her, dragging Connor along with them as he stepped out of the stairwell.

In the centre of the stadium, Griffin and Becker were freely pumping bullets into the fast-moving cloud of flesh-eating insects, to no avail whatsoever. The stands around the swarm had become deserted as it focused itself on devouring one hapless Chelsea supporter, giving both men a clear shot at it. Not that it was much use.

"Fuck!" Griffin swore again.

"They're just dodging our bullets!" Becker yelled at him.

"Then we need something they can't avoid!" Griffin said, pausing to reload his gun.

"Like a flamethrower?" Becker suggested, jogging over to join him.

Griffin glanced sideways at him, "I like the way you think. Just one problem – we can't get past the crowd, and even if we could, we don't have one in the car."

Becker glanced at him, "I thought I ensured one was always stashed in the back after that fungus incident."

"What fungus incident?" Griffin frowned.

"Ah," Becker said, "So it didn't happen in this timeline?"

"Ay up," Griffin slid a new clip into his pistol, lifting it to aim at the cloud of piranha-locusts. It was on the move again, undulating along the stands towards the fleeing crowds, who were desperately trying to force their way through the packed doors to the exits.

"Oh crap," Becker said.

Griffin grabbed his phone from his belt, and switched it on, "Call the ARC, get them to send a flamethrower," he said as he passed it to Becker. He stripped off his jacket, passing it to Becker as well.

"What are you doing?" Becker said.

"If I can lure the _New York Times _away from these people," Griffin was glancing between the stands and the player's tunnel, "Then we might be able to keep it contained in the changing rooms."

"You do know it's my job to keep you alive!" Becker called after him, but Griffin was already moving.

The kid ran to the steps, shooting the pistol at the swarm as he ran towards it, the explosive-tipped bullets blasting big craters in the steps as they sent stone chips flying.

The cloud seemed to twitch, aware of closer prey.

"Come on, you floating bastard!" Griffin yelled, squeezing the trigger, "I snogged your mum, and she was rubbish!" Yeah, like that was gonna work. Still, what else could he do?

Becker watched with mild amusement as he waited for the Taylor to pick up. The Doctor's number had appeared magically in his speed-dial section.

Griffin stopped as he reached the stairs, just as the cloud spun to face him.

"Ah," Griffin said, slowing immediately, adding "Fuck," as the cloud began to spin towards him. Maybe he'd been lucky and hit an individual insect. Of course, it wasn't exactly lucky for him.

He began to run back down the steps, easily a match for the cloud – he must work out every day.

Becker was still waiting, and eventually, was connected.

"This is Dr Malcolm Taylor. I'm afraid I can't come to the phone right now, but if you'll leave a message for me, I'll get back to you as soon as possible. Ciao for now."

"Oh, bloody hell!" Becker exploded.

* * *

UNKNOWN LOCATION – ORESTRAN ERA

"Ah," said Danny Quinn, as the masked soldiers lifted their weapons and pointed the business ends directly at him, "Hello," he said, putting on charm mode, and surreptitiously stepping back, towards the anomaly.

"Don't take another step!" one of the soldiers snapped, "Hands where we can see them! The anomaly's closed, so you're trapped."

Sighing, Danny raised his hands. The soldiers proceeded to remove his backpack and cuff him, before leading him to a cell. There he was forced to undergo a strip-search, then left alone in the cell for several hours, without any clothes.

The stone walls and floor were cold, and he sighed as he sat back against them. Idly, he tried to work out what time it was. The men had spoken English, and their guns had looked relatively modern, so he was probably in a military base on modern-day Earth. America, maybe.

He glanced up at the camera in the corner of the cell, wondering who might be watching.

There was a clunk, and the door opened, revealing a masked soldier carrying a pair of overalls. Moments later, he was led into a posh-looking wood-panelled room, where the guard motioned for him to sit down, before leaving.

Danny waited for a full five minutes before he stood, and began examining a number of the sculptures around the room. He stopped as he heard a door open, and turned towards the sound.

His eyes widened.

"Hello, Danny."

* * *

ARC – HOLOCENE ERA

Dr Malcolm Taylor wasn't answering his mobile because he was crouching under a table in the lab off the main operations room, listening to the sounds of gunfire from the corridor and the roars of the dinosaurs. Lester sat next to him, swearing like a gangster with part of him on fire.

On the other side of the glass wall (which had a steel shutter between it and the operations room), in the operations room, were four anomalies. They were arranged in such a way that they formed a perfect triangular-based pyramid at the centre of the room, and roaming around them were a pack of therapod dinosaurs, which kept attacking the barricade at the main entrance to the operations room. Taylor was running CCTV images through the image-recognition software, a database Connor and Cutter had been working on before Cutter's disappearance, based on various photographs. It was especially clever in that, when it did not recognise a creature, it created a new file so that if the creature appeared again, it would have a record of it.

Using power from the ARC's internal generators, the computers were crunching through the files until an image flashed on Taylor's screen. He checked it.

"Eotyrannus," he said, glancing up, "Like the pack on Guns Island."

"That's all we need," Lester groaned.

"We'll need some big guns to take care of them," Taylor said, tapping at his laptop," then we'll have to get the locking device back."

"And when is that happening?" Lester snapped.

"I sent Connor a text message," Taylor replied.

"A _text message_?" Lester laughed.

"It's surprisingly effective," Taylor said, a little hurt.

* * *

ARSENAL

Connor fought to shove his way through the crowd, but their momentum carried him further and further away from the stadium, limping slightly on his injured leg. Then it occurred to him. He could just ring Becker on his mobile.

He selected Becker's number from his speed-dial menu, pressing his phone to his ear.

Inside, Becker felt his phone vibrate, and he pressed it to his ear.

"Taylor?"

"No, it's me," Connor said.

"Ah…" Becker paused, eyes following Griffin as the swarm of piranha-locusts did the same. The kid charged down the stairs, running as fast as he could, the locusts swirling after him, until Griffin reached the fence at the bottom of the stands, and vaulted over them.

"Look," Connor continued, "I've just got a message from Taylor, there's _three_ anomalies now open – in the ARC. They want the locking device to shut them."

"That could be a problem," Becker said, "Send a message back – Griffin's trying to trap the swarm in the player's changing rooms."

"Is he?"

"Yeah," Becker watched as the swarm undulated down the tunnel after Griffin, "He's got guts, I will say that."

"Okay, I'll send the message now," Connor said, and cut the connection.

Becker lifted his gun, and jogged towards the player tunnel, hurrying after Griffin.

* * *

ARC

A guard jogged through the ARC's main corridor, towards the weapons locker, looking for the big guns. As he was passing Taylor's office, he heard a bleeping noise. He paused, and saw Taylor's mobile phone on the desk, bleeping. He smiled, picking it up to give to the Doctor when he got the rocket launchers.

And because he was picking up the phone, he didn't notice what had happened in the corridor. He turned, and froze. An anomaly hung in the air. He spun, and began to run back towards the barricade, shouting… and was crushed as a Neovenator stepped through, its foot landing straight on top of him.

The massive therapod rose to its full height, its head crashing through the ceiling, sending walls collapsing around it. It roared, stepping forward, leaving the crushed and mangled soldier on the ground, holding a crushed and mangled mobile telephone.

"Oh fuck," Lester said, his face white, as the dinosaur walked towards them, plaster raining down as it demolished the ARC from the inside.

* * *

UNKNOWN LOCATION – ORESTRAN ERA

"Hello, Danny," said Helen Cutter.

"Oh no," Danny said, stepping back, "You're dead!"

"You still believe that?" Helen asked, stepping towards him.

"I felt your pulse after that velociraptor fell on you," Danny snapped, "There wasn't one."

Helen stepped closer to him, "Let's just say I'm full of surprises," she whispered. She turned to the table, "Now," she smiled, all sweetness and light, "Do you have sugar in your tea? We have lots of things to chat about."

"Like what?" Danny snarled.

"For instance," Helen frowned, seeming to think, "Did you know it's been two years since the incident in Ethiopia? You know, when I tried to wipe out my entire species?"

"How could I forget?" Danny asked, eyes widening, "Two years?"

"And I'm looking good on it," Helen smiled, "Please, sit."

Danny remained standing. Helen shrugged, "Suit yourself."

The door opened, and the young man Danny had followed entered the room. He was still wearing no shirt, showing off a muscular chest and arms. He was carrying a tea tray, on which were some surprisingly delicate bone china. The kid put the tray on the table, then headed back for the door. Helen's eyes were drawn to his chest, and as he walked away she stared at his arse.

When he'd left, having not spoken, she returned her attention to Danny, "You've met him, I believe?" she said.

"Who is he?"

"A carbon copy of a rather nice young man in the timeline where the delightful Connor and Abby are at the moment," Helen smirked, "By name of Griffin O'Conner. The clone is my personal bodyguard, and… gentleman friend," she smirked again, "And I can tell you, he looks really good naked. Much better than my late husband, or his late work colleague."

Danny glared at her, disgusted, "That's why he's not allowed to wear a shirt," she grinned, "It's more fun that way. Although I have it on good authority the original is much sexier!"

"Cut to the chase," Danny snapped, "Where are we?"

"A little research facility on Guns Island, a few hundred thousand years into the future," Helen replied, offering him a china mug filled with tea. Bizarrely, it had a pair of kittens sketched on it, and a doily on the saucer.

"Although," Helen frowned, "It all could change at any minute."

"What do you mean?" Danny demanded.

"After I… returned," she said, "A very handsome young man told me about paradoxes – If I wipe out my species, it can't be wiped out because I was never born. So it still exists, and I was born. So I wipe it out, but that means I was never born, so I didn't wipe them out. You see how complicated it could get."

"And this has what to do with me?" Danny snarled impatiently.

Helen smiled. An icicle could have formed between them.

"The Chinese had a saying," she said, drawing out every word, just to annoy him, "'May you live in interesting times'. But it wasn't a blessing – it was a curse. And, in what you laughingly call the present, things are about to get very interesting indeed."


	5. Chapter 5

CRY HAVOC! AND LET SLIP THE DOGS OF WAR!

INDETERMINATE VECTORS

The head scientist picked listened to the voice on the other end of the phone. They had carried out the final test, and then activated their machine for the first time. The results had not been encouraging.

"What went wrong?" the voice on the other end demanded.

"According to our diagnostics," the scientist replied, "The flux capacitors were burnt out due to a massive burst of energy when we attempted to open the rupture."

"What do you mean 'attempted'?" the voice said suspiciously.

"Our readings indicated that no rupture was opened, but the sensors did detect a surge of energy from where the rupture would be. The energy patterns match the Temporal Potential Energy described in Dr Taylor's thesis."

"So we are affecting time, just not opening an Anomaly?" the voice inquired.

"Yes, sir," the scientist replied, "But the power requirements to do so were substantial, and then the feedback of TPE overloaded the capacitors."

"Consult the Thesis again," the voice ordered, "Look for any similar phenomena."

"Yes sir."

* * *

ARC – HOLOCENE ERA

Dr Malcolm Taylor had never moved so fast in his life. He dived to one side as the Neovenator charged, grabbing Lester and pulling his boss into his office. The therapod ignored them, going for the other guards at the barricade, who were attempting to fend off the Eotyrannus in the Operations Room. Walls and ceilings crashed to the ground as the dinosaurs found themselves confronting each other.

The smaller Eotyrannus swarmed into the corridor, attacking the larger Neovenator as much as the confined corridor allowed. They also smashed down walls and glass partitions. Then the Neovenator, maddened by the bites, charged at the ARC's outer wall. It crumbled like paper, releasing a very big, very angry, and no doubt very hungry, dinosaur onto the streets of London.

* * *

ARSENAL

Griffin O'Conner slammed his way through the door to the player's changing room, and fired at the ceiling. Naked and semi-naked footballers turned to stare, their jaws dropping open in a comical, stupid kind of way.

"You've all got to get out of here!" Griffin said, "Through any door that doesn't lead to the tunnel."

One of the footballers, began to speak, only for Griffin to shoot at the floor between his feet, causing him to jump back. They got the message after that, and began to hurry to the other exits. The door to the tunnel began to rock, as the swarm slammed into the outside. Griffin heard the click as the other door – the only other door – was locked by the last footballer.

_Shit_.

Griffin spun, looking for any other way out. Apart from the showers and lockers, there was nothing. Apart from the player, hammering at the locked door and screaming to be let out. It was a cruel way to dispose of a rival player.

Griffin yelled at him, "Get into a locker!" but he continued to scream.

"He's gonna shoot me! Help, guys! I can't play with a bullet in me!"

Pulled open a locker door, Griffin yelled one last time for the player to get into a locker, then gave up. Griffin dived into the locker and pulled the door shut, as the door to the tunnel swung open and allowed the swarm in. The footballer didn't stand a chance.

Griffin took the opportunity, and hurried to the tunnel door while the swarm was occupied. He slammed it behind him, and turned the key that was built into the lock.

"_Fuck_," he said several times as he leaned against the door, listening to the footballer's screams.

"Griffin?" Becker said as he reached the door. The kid turned, looking ashen.

"Hey," he said, smiling weakly, "I think it got pissed off when I made a reference to its Auntie Marge, and the tub of margarine."

Then he sank to the floor, resting his head on his knees, breathing heavily.

* * *

GUNS ISLAND – ORESTRAN ERA

"And what does that mean?" Danny demanded.

"Something is happening," Helen said, shifting to a melodramatic voice, "That could destroy us all!" She threw her hands into the air in mock horror.

"Enough with the jokes," Danny snarled, his hands curling into fists, "And tell me what's going on!"

"Careful," Helen wagged a finger in his face, "I've got squads of clones at my beck and call. They're armed, of course. And Griffin here has inherited the martial prowess of the original. Which is the ability of one of the most notorious cage fighters in Newcastle, just to clarify."

Danny suddenly became aware that the kid was standing at the back of the room, the muscles in his body tense, as if waiting for a word from Helen. The kid's ice-blue eyes bored into Danny's skull, as the kid blinked freely.

"And he's very fast," Helen whispered.

Then she turned, smiling sweetly and half-walking, half-skipping back to the table, "Now," she said, settling down at the table, "Let's talk about things. Do you take sugar?"

"No," Danny said warily, as he sat down on the opposite side of the table.

"Oh, Mr Quinn, relax," Helen said, playfully, "Milk?"

"Yes."

Helen snapped her fingers, and the Griffin-clone poured two cups of tea, added milk to both and sugar to Helen's. Again, his body held Helen's gaze until he stepped back in silence.

"So," Danny said, still being careful, "What exactly is going on?"

Helen regarded him with shrewd eyes. Then she spoke.

"Multiple anomalies have opened into the Humanean era, some located within the ARC itself. They form a perfect square-based pyramid. A second square-based pyramid of anomalies has formed over Haringey, about twenty miles into the sky. You are familiar with the energetic properties of square-based pyramids?"

"Something about nothing aging inside the ones at Giza," Danny said, frowning. What could Helen be up to? Was this really true? Or was she just trying to manipulate him

"Not quite," Helen said, "It seems that the flow of energy around a pyramid is more efficient and concentrated than around any other shape. Dr Malcolm Taylor, who replaced my late husband at the ARC in this new timeline, once postulated that anomalies are created due to build-ups of temporal potential energy around temporal instabilities. Now imagine what effect a concentrated flow of time energy would do to the reality around it."

"Sorry," Danny said, "I failed my temporal physics o-level in school."

The ghost of a smile flickered across Helen's face, "It's bad. Trust me."

"Going on your past form," Danny said acidly, "That's going to be rather hard to do."

Helen looked hurt.

"I can't believe you'd think such a thing!" she cried, again mocking, then became serious again, "I want to stop the future you saw from occurring. I've learnt that my original plan would have screwed up time even more, so I'll need to find a better way. But what's going on now…" she lost all her joviality for a brief moment, "Could destroy all of history."

Danny was quiet. Helen was unbelievably sincere.

Then Griffin appeared at her shoulder, wordlessly handing her a slip of paper. Helen read it quickly, then passed it back.

Turning back to Danny, she spoke, "It seems things are heating up. My spies in your era are reporting that a number of dinosaurs have escaped the ARC, and into Greater London," she giggled, "It seems the government will have a job hushing this one up! Not that they won't try, of course. Lord Bathelwaite is on his way there now with the SAS."

* * *

ARC – HUMANEAN ERA

Lester lay on his back in the laboratory, shattered glass around him, and an Eotyrannus standing over him.

Saliva dribbled from its jaws, splattering onto the shoulder of Lester's suit. Its eyes were slitted, jumping around as it stared down in surprise at its next meal.

Then it was lifted off its feet, slamming into the wall of the lab, where it exploded.

Lester lay on the ground, staring into the sky, through the holes in the roof, and the rubble of the ARC.

"James?"

He glanced along to see Bathelwaite standing over him.

"Are you alright?" the Lord asked, helping Lester to his feet and guiding him out of the ARC, towards a vehicle with a machine gun mounted on it. Taylor was already there, absently staring at something from his pocket.

In the distance, something roared, and people screamed.


End file.
